


Day 16: During Their Morning Ritual(s)

by littlemisscurious



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge [9]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Day 16, F/M, Morning Rituals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 15:52:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisscurious/pseuds/littlemisscurious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Feel free to visit my tumblr page http://w-is-for-writing.tumblr.com to find out more about my stories, my characters, and everything else you might be interested in :)</p></blockquote>





	Day 16: During Their Morning Ritual(s)

“Honey, have you seen my white shirt?,” Tom shouts from the bedroom just as I am about to step into the shower. “Which one? You’ve got like...twenty white shirts, Tom,” I reply, sighing, before I wrap a towel around my body while I walk back into our bedroom. “Well, _that_ white shirt. The...the one I bought last week,” he mumbles, hidden behind the open door of our big, white wardrobe.

“Did you wear it since you bought it?,” I ask, unable to hide a smirk as I walk around the door, seeing him clad only in his boxers and a pair of black socks. “Yes, to the interview last Friday,” he nods, still rummaging around his endless collection of shirts - white, blue, black, to only name a few - sorted by colour, thanks to my influence on his side of our shared wardrobe.

 

“Have you checked the laundry bin?,” I suggest, sitting down on the bed behind him, admiring his toned back and legs and...backside. Swiftly, he turns around, looking at me as if I just suggested something entirely outrageous. “Why would it be in there?” I chuckle as his eyes turn into slits, eyeing me suspiciously.

“Because it’s dirty? Oh come on, Tom, you’re a grown man, don’t pretend you’ve never done your laundry,” I laugh, standing up and squeezing his bum before I take a look in the laundry bin. “Were you looking for this one?,” I ask sweetly, holding up a white shirt, looking exactly like all the other white shirts he owns. Squinting, he steps closer before he nods vigorously, trying to snatch it out of my hand.

“Tom!! There’s a reason it’s in the laundry bin. You’re not wearing that today, choose another one!,” I chide him, shoving the shirt back into the laundry bin and stepping in front of it with my ‘Don’t you dare touch this’-face. “But that is...perfect,” he sighs, hoping his puppy dog face will help him this time as well as it normally does. “It’s dirty,” I state matter-of-factly, taking his hand and pulling him back to his side of the closet.

“What about this one? Or that?,” I ask, offering him some of his other perfectly white - and clean - shirts. “They don’t fit me as good as that one,” he mumbles, defeated, pointing at the laundry bin in the corner of our bedroom. “Well, that one is not available so you’ll have to choose one of those if you don’t want to go wherever you have to go without any shirt at all,” I reply, rolling my eyes as I walk back to our ensuite bathroom, hoping he won’t run and get the other, dirty shirt at the first chance offered.

 

I can hear him sigh theatrically behind me and I shake my head with a quiet laugh. “You’re evil,” he mumbles before I enter the bathroom and shortly after the shower, relishing the refreshing liquid running over my not-yet-quite-awake body. Through the frosted glass of our shower cubicle I can see him enter the bathroom after me, clad in some trousers now at least but still without a shirt as he starts shaving, still muttering something about his beloved, new shirt which “would go so well with his jacket”.

“Are you going ‘dressed’ like this now?,” I grin as I leave the shower, drying my skin while I look at his reflection in the mirror. “Maybe,” he answers curtly, squeezing some toothpaste onto his toothbrush. I nod with raised eyebrows, wrapping the towel around my torso again before I step behind him, snaking my arms around his waist.

 

“Why are you so grumpy this morning?,” I whisper against his skin as I press a few kisses onto his shoulders. He was a morning person and him being all grumpy and sulky was so unlike him, making me worry. Slowly, I let my fingertips circle around his belly button and through the faint trace of his happy trail disappearing into the waistband of his trousers.

I can feel more than hear him sigh before he leaves his toothbrush next to the sink and turns around in my embrace, placing his hands around my waist. “I’m sorry, Lou,” he whispers as he kisses me softly on the forehead and for a moment I close my eyes, enjoying the touch of his lips on my skin. “What’s wrong, Tom? Talk to me,” I plead, looking up into his steel blue eyes again, my fingertips now stroking along his spine.

 

He hesitates for a moment, biting his lip before he answers quietly, “I’m just nervous, I suppose. I really want to play this part, you know.” He drops his gaze in defeat and it almost breaks my heart seeing him doubting his acting skills that much. “Darling, hey,” I mumble, raising his chin with the back of my index finger gently. “You will, I’m sure of it,” I smile, lovingly. “I bet you were brilliant at the auditions and they’d be stupid not to choose you,” I add, placing my hand on his cheek, soft and naked after he just shaved the little stubble, which I love so much, off.

“Thanks Lou,” Tom whispers, a small smile forming on his lips which I return ever so gladly before standing on tiptoes and kissing him gently. His arms around my waist pull me gently closer to his half-naked body while he leans forward a little to set me back onto my feet, his tongue gliding slowly across my bottom lip.

Burying my hand in his hair, I grant his request, sighing as his tongue plays with mine while I let my other hand glide to the buckle of his belt, opening it slowly. “Lou, I need to leave soon,” he mumbles into our kiss but I ignore his argument and unzip his fly, spurred on by his obvious arousal underneath my movements. “You didn’t have breakfast yet,” I whisper against his lips, smirking as he loosens my towel, causing it to drop to the tiles underneath our feet. “Oh I love it when you’re right,” he grins and picks me up to walk back into our bedroom, all worries about film parts and white shirts entirely forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to visit my tumblr page http://w-is-for-writing.tumblr.com to find out more about my stories, my characters, and everything else you might be interested in :)


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